The Best-Kept Secret. Melinda Curtis

      “I have the drive.”

      “Used to,” Rosie corrected him.

      “I’m very driven. And I have lots of friends who find me intriguing.” Hudson hadn’t meant to let Rosie get to him.

      “I call them as I see them.” Her voice was flat, as if she thought Hud’s political career wasn’t worth arguing about.

      “And you know this by reading my file?” She didn’t know him at all. “Maybe there are things that aren’t in my file that might make you feel differently.”

      “I’ve been trained to be a judge of what works and what sells in the system. It’s my professional opinion, nothing more.”

      Rosie DeWitt didn’t know it yet, but her professional opinion was about to change.

      Dear Reader,

      I was excited to be included in the SINGLES…WITH KIDS miniseries. Having spent sixteen years as a working mom in the corporate world, I had a lot of history to draw upon, including that all-important network of other working moms who keep you sane. More important, I’d had these characters lurking in the recesses of my brain— Rosie and Hud, two driven, type A personalities who were used to being in the driver’s seat and were craving a book of their own. It’s a power struggle from the get-go and one neither intends to lose.

      Only, these two didn’t count on sparks flying from the moment they shake hands. Or the way falling in love necessitates revealing the best-kept secrets.

      I hope you enjoy Rosie and Hud’s story. I love to hear from readers, either through my Web site, www.MelindaCurtis.com, or through regular mail at P.O. Box 150, Denair, CA 95316.

      Happy reading!

      Melinda

      The Best-Kept Secret

      Melinda Curtis

      ABOUT THE AUTHOR

      Melinda Curtis lives in Northern California with her husband, three kids, two Labradors, two cats and a circle of friendly neighbors who eagerly weigh in on everything from the best way to cut your lawn to the best haircut for a fourth grader—just what good friends are for!

      To my family, who understand what it means

       to have a working mom who might forget dentist appointments, singes the garlic bread and misplaces PE clothes. Your wit, eye rolls and unconditional love keep me going.

      And to Thelma, who taught me about blended

       families, forgiveness and stuffing a bra. You will be missed.

      CONTENTS

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

      CHAPTER SIX

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      CHAPTER NINE

      CHAPTER TEN

      CHAPTER ELEVEN

      CHAPTER TWELVE

      CHAPTER THIRTEEN

      CHAPTER FOURTEEN

      CHAPTER FIFTEEN

      CHAPTER SIXTEEN

      CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

      CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

      CHAPTER ONE

      “I NEED YOU TO DO something for me.” A small favor. A phone call. Still, it went against Hudson McCloud’s grain to ask anyone for help. It came down to this: swallow his pride and ask his mother for help…or wait. And Hud was done waiting.

      “What is it?” Vivian McCloud turned from the skyscraper’s view of the turbulent waters of San Francisco Bay and the few sailboats that braved the post-Christmas Pacific Ocean tides. His mother had once been full of life, but the events of the past ten years had taken their toll.

      And Hud was partially to blame.

      He couldn’t turn back the clock and prevent the mistakes and losses he’d suffered from happening, but after two years of biding his time there was finally a chance he could restore his family’s honor.

      Hud crossed the Oriental carpet in his mother’s office to the cabinet that held the TV and filled the room with a sound he had come to loathe—a newscast.

      “…sad news for the city. San Francisco’s mayor was about to deliver a speech on the steps of city hall when he suffered a brain aneurism. The mayor was rushed to USF Medical Center and pronounced dead at ten a.m.”

      Hud was silent as his mother came to stand next to him. As a young senator’s wife, she’d been a protégé of Jackie Kennedy both in politics and fashion. Despite her silver hair, she was still a striking presence in her classic suit and pearls. Her influence as the widow of a fifth-generation U.S. senator stretched across both parties, but it was a power she rarely used.

      There was a long silence between them, as the news changed to the weather. She had to know what Hud wanted and how important it was to him, to the McCloud legacy.

      When his mother didn’t speak, Hud smoothed his tie, cleared his throat and said quietly, “This is just what I’ve been looking for.”

      His mother gave him a sharp look. “Another chance for you to be hurt?”

      “It’s what I want.” It’s what he had to do. Hud muted the volume. He’d turned out to be the screwup in the McCloud family, not Samuel. How in the hell had that happened?

      “You excel at running McCloud Inc. Any other man would try to be satisfied with the way things turned out.”

      “But not a McCloud.” McClouds didn’t give up. His father had taught him that, along with duty before personal goals.

      She sighed heavily. They both knew Hudson had sacrificed his own dreams for the sake of the family.

      “I know the public thinks I failed.” These last words came out gruffly despite Hud’s resolve not to care what anyone else thought. He cleared his throat again. “But I can make it right this time.” Hud wanted his mother to be able to hold her head up once more, wanted to hear her laugh with unbridled joy rather than polite response.

      “Mayor of San Francisco? The party would be foolish to consider you.”

      And Hud was a fool to believe he had a chance. Still, he had one card left to play. “They won’t turn me down if you ask them. No one refuses Vivian McCloud.”

      “ROSIE, YOU HAVE two calls waiting.” Rosie DeWitt’s assistant, Marsha, stuck her head in Rosie’s office. “Line one is Walter O’Connell.”

      Just hours after the mayor’s death, the news media and political world was in a frenzy over who was going to run in the election to replace him. Since Rosie was one of Walter’s political strategists, he probably wanted her opinion. He might even want her to run the campaign for the Democratic candidate.

      “Line two is Casey’s day care.”

      Anxiety pulsed through Rosie’s veins. She set down her coffee and quickly pushed the button for line two. “Is Casey okay?”

      “He’s fine, Ms. DeWitt.” Rosie recognized the voice of Rainbow Day Care’s principal, Ms. Phan. Casey attended the Rainbow center after school and during the holidays. “I just wanted to make sure we get our school play on your calendar in late January.”